Lessons in friendship 4 - Enduring care
by PiercedBlueCat
Summary: Some time after of HoB. Sherlock wanting to show John he trusts him and an opportunity occurs, he stuggles against his own old behaviour-structures... but he bites the bullet - or maybe he's just to much out of it to really resist. No First Person POV but almost entirely from Sherlock's side.


**Lessons in friendship 4 - Enduring care**

_Some Time after of HoB. Sherlock wanting to show John he trusts him and an opportunity occurs, he stuggles against his own old behaviour-structures... but he bites the bullet - or maybe he's just to much out of it to really resist. No First Person POV but almost entirely from Sherlock's side._

_Standard disclaimer: Sherlock, John and all other mentioned characters belong to BBC or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I just borrowed them for fun. I wrote this for my personal delight and improving my English, no copyright infringement intended. No money changed hands __and no profit is being made.  
_

_I have problems receiving comfort, care and touch in any kind, sometimes I wish I got another chance to learn how to receive and be able to be comforted by it the way Sherlock does here. Maybe that's why this was written.  
Gladly I have only problemes to receive. To give comfort is no problem at all and I was told several times that my care is more than tender and soothing. I tried to put into John's actions what I'd have done.._

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Sherlock struggled to get into a sitting position, the distant pressure on his belly turning into a dull pain. He gasped with surprise and tried to understand what was happening around him.

"Sherlock … relax, everything is ok….. Don't sit up…" John gently urged.

"Can't…" Sherlock started but was out of breath before he could continue. There was chaos around him. There were more people there than just John … he had problems recognizing them and defining from where their sounds of movement came. In fact he had problems focussing on anything…. He didn't even know where he was.

"It's alright, you're safe… lie back down." John urged. Dizziness fogged his brain and Sherlock struggled to get up again. Hadn't he just done that…. Fought to get up? Someone slowly gripped his arm making him turn his head.

"He's only half conscious…" a distant voice that should go with a face announced. But it was hard to get this sluggy brain of his into working gear…. The world felt like jelly.

"I want to give him a muscle relaxant so he won't move that much. I don't want to sedate him for now. I might need your help." John spoke in a low voice with somebody else than him.

"John?…." he was panicking he slightly realized….. he didn't want any sedation… he hadn't felt panic since Dartmore. His hands flailing through the air looking for an escape route.

His eyes were open, he realized, but everything was blurred so much he couldn't really see more than rough shapes and colors.

"Sherlock?…. Squeeze my hand if you hear me….." John urged. He squeezed a hand.

"Good." John announced in a low voice right next to him. He was lying on ….something soft? But this gladly wasn't a hospital…. his bed.

"J'hn…?" he muttered.

"Yeah, it's me… you need to relax…. It's ok. Your body is just playing bad tricks with you. I want you to relax, then you'll be able to breathe better. You probalbly have some fractured rips. Where do you hurt?"

"Stomach…" he breathed.

"Yeah, your abdomen is tense and I need to examine it. You might be hurting additionally cause you haven't eaten solid food in days. Don't be alarmed I'll give you something to relax." John explained.

"No… don't…" but someone had taken his arm and gently held it, he was so weak he couldn't escape. A sharp prick pierced the back of his hand. He tried to pull away but his fingers where held firm.

"Easy…. It's alright…. You just relax. You're home and safe…. Don't fight it…" John soothed. He felt John doing something with his hand, felt sticky, then resting his hand on his hairline, his thumb moving slowly up and down his forehead.

"Ok, port's in…." John softly announced. "I want you on liquids and relaxants. If you move too much you might hurt yourself further. Don't even think to start about arguing. I will call an ambulance if you don't do as I say."

A cold tingling sensation sneaked up his left arm and he forced his eyes open to find out what was happening. He held his breath when he saw John sitting on the left side of his bed and fumbling with a syringe, his medical bag open on a chair.

"NO…. can't …." He stammered but it was no use. John held his hand and inserted the content of the syringe in the IV line he had just started. Dazed Sherlock followed the line up to a bag which was hanging on a hook above his bed…. He was indeed home at the flat … since when was there a hook?… oh, someone had taken away the picture frame with his certificate… The chemical taste of the injected liquid started to irritate his taste buds. He hated to taste IVs, happened every time.

"What'n it? Tast's bad."

"Something to help you relax. Sorry if it feels a bit cold." John explained, he had heard some patients could taste IV-liquids but never had closer contact with the theme.

Sherlock felt a blanket moved away. The cold making him frown. Someone started unbuttoning his shirt. He felt a wave of repulsion take his breath. He started to struggle for breath, something was hindering him… he was desperately trying to evade being touched…. His chest hurt.

"He's just looking at your belly, Sherlock, relax." Mrs. Hudson… god, he was embarrassed even more. Had she been here long?

"No…don't touch me… " he begged and tried to move away from the touch, a wave of pain pierced his stomach.

"Sherlock… what's the problem? ….." Mrs. Hudson asked puzzled.

John's warm hands moved on his chest while opening the buttons and flapping away his shirt front.

"Don't undress me… no…. " Sherlock's voice sounded distressed. Though a mental situation-pop-up openened in his mind. He knew he had started a situation-monitoring-routine of some kind… the event he had tagged must have just happened… but he was too much out of it to be able to deciper that right now…. Though he knew it was a bad idea to ignore those….

"What is it, Sherlock?"

"I need to examine this… relax and let me have a look …. or you go to the hospital. I can't risk you to have internal bleeding unnoticed."

"No…leave me alone…. don't….no hospital." Sherlock tried to resist. He needed to concentrate and find out about that tag….. He tried to roll into a fetal position and with clumsy hands he held to his hurting chest. Why was this such a problem? He wanted to trust John, he had decided earlier to give John more of trust with theses matters. … Uh, that was the pop-up about…. Great, understanding the pop-up's message before reading it … bad tag?… compromised mind… yeah… he was to much out of it for this to work properly…. So, where was the red line he had in hand before getting sidetracked with the pop-up?… Yes, … why was something so difficult here? Mrs Hudson…. ?

Another touch at the new IV port and this time an odd, thick pressure raising up his arm. He needed to trust John… he needed to get away. He didn't want to be touched… need to prove John trust…. Great, inconsistent Standart Operation Procedures…. two red threats leading in opposite directions… He rose, trying to sit up. He brought his arms down beside himself and tried to push upwards but strong hands were there. One grabbing his shoulder.. another other hand pressed into the bow of his elbow, preventing effectively that he pushed himself up any further. He tried to push them away but he was weak and they knew how to outrun his power. Vulnerable, yeah, he was right now… he remembered again he had decided to let John help and this…. he gulped… this was an occasion to do it. This was gonna be hard. His urge was to escape and hide where none would disturb him and see him in this pathetic state. But he wanted to regain John's trust and this situation was one of those to do that? Why were his thoughts all mixed up and repeating themselfes?...and in such disarray? He looked for one of his mental red strings that usually guided the endless bundles of rushing thoughts…. And found only elements of it with loose ends. Loose ends? Had he ever had one of those threats that had two loose ends before?… This was bad…..

"Sherlock?… do you know where you are?" John asked.

"Yeah…. Home."

What was happening?.. He blinked and realized he was in his bed… he had realized that before, hadn't he? He had been beaten… by two men. Memory slowly came back to him. He had taken a cab home and John had opened the door, there his memory stopped.

"Relax…. You're ok!…. easy!" John's soothing hand on his chest, guiding him down onto his back.

He was panting, another person bent over him … Mrs Hudson… what was she doing here?

"What's the problem?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"M'udson, could you leave 's'lone?" Sherlock begged. His tone was not rude, he could try to let John care for him, it would be hard, but he was not able to endure to have another witness for that.

"Why, dear? I want to help?" she sounded a bit disappointed to not be entrusted with this.

"Mrs Hudson, I don't think he is in his clear mind right now, he might have been drugged, and I also think he doesn't wants to be seen like this. Do him the favour, it's not you he's sending away, he'd send everybody away. I'll call for you if you can help." She turned away, gladly with only a worried expression on her face.

"You just relax there, let me handle everything for now and just let it happen…." John smiled encouraging and bared his chest and belly with casual professionalism. A heavy feeling in his body added, forcing himself to settle down …. He wanted John's trust and he had to work for it… bite the bullet …now!

"I'm gonna touch you now, tell me if it gets too bad." When John started to press and probe his belly with warm and firm hands he had to take some deep breaths to fight the urge to shove him away again and then wondered why he was feeling so stiff….. He sucked in air when John pressed a sore spot right on his ribs.

"You have at least two fractured ribs. I am pretty sure there is no internal bleeding but I will monitor you closely to be sure. I'm gonna put some ointment on your side, just go with it. You hurt yourself by being all tensed up, you know. Try to relax." John informed him. Seconds later he felt a soft and cold pressure start just above his belly button. John's hands moved around and carefully applied whatever that stuff was.

The touch was unnerving but kind of hypnotising… Sherlock felt his body start to relax. He let his eyes close and tried to sort his thoughts but couldn't concentrate and felt himself drift towards sleep after a few minutes.

He was only half conscious when John reached his solar plexus and he tried to turn away from the touch when something in his mind exploded without any reason he could grasp.

He gasped in surprise.

"What is it?…Sherlock? Easy …. Tell me what the problem is!" John sounded far away and Sherlock was not able to understand what he was talking about. He tried to fight the darkness that threatened to drown him. Distantly he felt the touch change and recognised it was on his brow now.

"There is …orange hot'ingling… solar plexus?" Sherlock managed to mumble.

"Sherlock? Could you explain that?" John sounded a bit alarmed.

"Need t'trust you… let you do … " Sherlock pressed out, wanting John to understand.

"I'm gonna examine you some more now, just go with it…." John informed again. Sherlock sucked in air when John pressed a sore spot near his stomach.

"You have some bruising over your stomach, any nausea?"

Sherlock managed to shake his head…. Was there? He realized he had said 'No' before even having listened to his body… it was what he usually did. Because it was not relevant. Because to bother other people with his body's needs or problems was rude and making himself assailable and appearing weak. But this was John and he was not just asking to be polite, he needed to know. Also, it was hard to listen to his body when he expected the moment he started to he'd be hit by more pain. He usually shoved this kind of input into the furthest away corner of his mind, repressing pain and discomfort the moment it occurred. He had been acquired to hide his body's feelings, discomfort or pain from a very young age. He was ashamed to talk about it.

"'bit…" he corrected himself. John raised an eyebrow.

"You were hit on the head, I need to clean and bandage it." John unpacked several items he put on the chair next to him and started to clean the wound. Sherlock endured it, not the pain but the touch and the fact he had given away control to someone else. Enduring the touch wasn't as hard as he had thought. He had been glad when he had realized John's touch was not as worse as everybody else's on one or two occasions before. In fact, he now realized, it was neutral.  
Neutral was good, it wasn't straining.

He usually was unnerved when somebody entered his space and his impulse to back off kicked in. This space was his skin plus 40 cm of air, 60 cm around his head, lilac distaste bloomed when somebody moved anything into it without him wanting to, persons were the worst.  
But with John it was different, right now John had his hands on his face and his face was leaning close to see better. Sherlock would have preferred he would keep a bit more distance because he could feel him breathing and that was just a bit too much input on his skin, but it was _not _negative, it was neutral. Trust him, he wants to help… just let him do this….

"Sherlock?… You're okay?" John had stopped his movements and stared at Sherlock's closed eyes and controlled breathing through his nose. The sedative should have taken effect by now. He was worried because Sherlock wasn't himself. He didn't resist at all! This was odd, but he had explained, hadn't he? As soon as he was fully aware he had hinted he wanted to let John help. He had missed it before, but now he realized the connection to a conversation John had with him a few months earlier. John had been annoyed when he had had a flashback and Sherlock kept bugging him about that… John had said that trust was not only on one side but he needed Sherlock to trust him, too. He raised an eyebrow. Was Sherlock tolerating this because he wanted to show his trust in him? Why-would-I-need-you-Sherlock opening up to him? … to present him with trust?

"'m Fine."

"'kay, almost finished. … I want you to rest comfortable, so just go with me." John vanished. Sherlock wondered what John had in mind now. He realized his thoughts were getting slower by the minute. He was tired…. exhausted…. and drugged. It felt odd to give the ball to someone else…. Passiveness… the concept made him slightly nervous: loss of control - like a shiny frozen lake in the dark, slippery area. He knew he was a control freak. Passiveness meant: being bored fast. Being bored was dangerous. Always keep your mind busy…

John came back with two loosely rolled blankets and knelt on the right side of the bed.

"Just go with this."

He was hold by his shoulder and his hip and carefully rolled half onto his side, something soft was pushed behind his back on the whole length of his body, then he was turned on his other side and the procedure repeated. When he was rolled back into a supine position his knees where lifted and a large cushion was placed under them. Tight softness surrounded him on all sides now like he was in a large U-shaped pillow… Holding him. It felt good. White… cleansed.. Cocooned…

"Whatare you doin'?" Sherlock felt himself start to drift.

John looked at him with a slightly fond expression. "Sleep, Sherlock… This is meant to make you comfortable."

His hands were lifted gently and positioned outstretched on the improvised padding, palm up. John stroked the insides of his rights hand's palm with his left thenar ….with slight pressure… He had never felt tended for like this before, he had expected it so feel different, it was like a warm azure blue tingling, positive feeling. … but also high …and dizzy…. and cared for. This he had never felt before. It felt so….so… safe… he slipped into sleep.

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A/N:

_This will be continued in several short pieces… The titles always start the same. _

_I don't like to post in chapters and this is not one long story. More like a study of different aspects of the developing friendship._

Please review… 


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